


Silk

by orphan_account



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial of Feelings, First Time, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, Top Dante (Devil May Cry)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28876437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Nero wondered, actually, how many years the twins actually had. He was growing up slower than a normal human himself, but being directly related to Sparda was probably making those two even more powerful on the matter.For how long did Dante swim in his own, terrible pain?
Relationships: Dante/Nero (Devil May Cry)
Kudos: 71





	Silk

**Author's Note:**

> Twt @layerdifference

Dante always had his ways. And Nero never liked them, at all. They were reckless, more than he was, they were as if Dante didn’t value his life in any sort of way. Nero had a family, someone to go back to. His uncle would often return to his shop with nothing to say, eating cheap food or a pizza, and simply linger in the dark when he had no money to pay the bills. He held debts - with Lady, for example - but repaid them in his own way. He was okay with a simple life despite Nero knowing of his royal blood, thanks to his father’s words. They were few but simple. They were rich, they had everything a family could desire at the time, and even at the current one despite the conditions of the world. Everything was destroyed by the simple fact that Sparda was a demon, and also, a traitor of the underworld. Vergil liked luxury and gave himself what he desired when he desired. In his private life, he would never miss hanging out with Lady as she developed the hobby of dressing Vergil up. He would accept her help, because his style was stick to the past, but she knew how to keep his elegance while keeping up with the current timeline.

Nero wondered, actually, how many years the twins actually had. He was growing up slower than a normal human himself, but being directly related to Sparda was probably making those two even more powerful on the matter.

For how long did Dante swim in his own, terrible pain?

Nero wasn’t the guy that cared about some old man’s past, once. But Nico told him about Nell, her grandmother. How she died, supposedly, and how Dante saw her as an adoptive mother during his young days as a mercenary. And the boy gulped down, looking outside the window of the van to think.

Yes, he had a crush on his uncle. Crush was a simple word compared to what he felt.

Yes, it was wrong and that was why Nero would try to stay away from him as much as possible.

No…he didn't like knowing that even after he had returned from hell with his brother, his pain was still there. Trish saw it as weakness, Lady as humanity. But in the end, the guy that sat silently in a dark room until someone would come in and force him to put up his easy persona, was Dante.

Nero remembered how it felt to be alone. He remembered how much he liked Kyrie but was scared as fuck to approach her because of his arm. He knew he could bring trouble to such a sweet girl. The first time she approached him he walked away even if he didn't want to. Loneliness was a normal thing for the Spardas. But even Vergil, as human as he could be now, was seeking what he didn't have when lost and in pain. Dante gave him the possibility of a new life multiple times, but who gave Dante a chance? To settle down. Maybe have kids.

Nobody, not even Dante himself. He refused such happiness. Because he was still obsessed with his job, and he was going to be the same for the rest of his life. After all, between the twins, it was Dante that had his mother's portrait on his desk. His reason to fight. Revenge? Pain. Most of all, regret.

"Urgh. Fuck it…" Nero mumbled. Nico looked at him with one of her curious looks, and Nero replied with silence. They didn't have anything to do. No missions. They could simply go around cities and clean some shit from the streets, but sometimes it was wiser to return home and rest.

Nero simply gestured a 'cya later' to everyone and walked away. Nico and Kyrie looked at each other: it was probably about Dante.

When the boy was tired of walking and thinking, he opened up his blue, glowing wings and started to fly. It wasn't easy. He didn't have two hundred fucking wings like his old man, but he was able to control his powers until he roughly hit the ground in front of DMC. The shop had the old, semi lightened up, logo in sight. After all, the cool one was on Nico's van now.

There were lights inside. So, Dante was able to pay somehow the bills as it would happen sometimes. The boy went inside, expecting to be destroyed by the usual foul smell of that place. Dante used his regen powers way too much as an excuse to treat himself like shit. Nero didn't like it.

Inside, a little brat had just finished her cleaning session. Patty, perhaps?

"Welcome to Devil May Cry! All cleaned up and actually presentable for Once." The girl said. She was a teen, blond hair and light eyes. A human, considering her scent. Lady talked to Nero about the acquaintance, and the fable was true; you could see the enthusiasm around her like an aura.

On the other hand, Dante was sitting on his desk desperate as a beaten dog. He had shaved himself, recovered clean clothes that were a bit too small for him, as he probably gained muscle mass during his endless fights in hell and before that. Nero tried to not look at him too much.

"Ah. Kid. My savior…free me from this deadly being." His voice was breathy, low. As usual, sarcastic and tired. So melodic it made Nero a bit too distracted for a second.

"You're the legendary demon hunter. Not me." He shrugged. Patty laughed, and Dante buried his face between his hands, a tent of white hair going all over.

"And, Dante! You need to cut your hair too. I know you prefer to sleep for thirty days instead, but they're too long! They will get in the way."

Nero immediately looked at the girl. His face was kinda difficult to read. Not aggressive but not friendly either.

"I think he should keep them. Just trim them a bit. But as short as before? Nah. Makes him look like he's trying to look young." A smile. Patty didn't seem to agree, but she shrugged. Dante moaned in pain, but Nero noticed his eyes were on him, behind the gaps of Dante's fingers as they parted a bit for a second.

"Well. I'm done making you Pay for not showing up at my party. But I'll be back soon, just to check on you. I'll leave you with your nephew, okay? Behave! Ciao!"

Such a force of nature. She changed herself quite quickly and dressed up with her dolly coat made of white and gold. She had cash. Probably family cash. But she wasn't displaying any kind of entitlement, especially when, when close to Nero, she gestured him to lean towards her for a secret.

"I found him in the dark again. This time everything was paid, but you know him. He's also very sad his brother doesn't visit often…be kind to him."

And she was gone.

That was true. Nero's father showed up at DMC from time to time, but he kinda acted like Trish. On his own, making his affairs, discovering the simple things in life that he denied to himself to this day. He cared for his brother, but he wasn't as affectionate as Dante was. Maybe he was still learning to be human. Or maybe Dante suffered solitude for way too long, embracing his human side much more than Vergil. That meant more pain.

That Dante controlled.

When he moved back to sit comfortably on his chair, he looked like his usual self. He wasn't wearing his coat, but he always wears his guns. The beauty of that man was delicate and strong at the same time. Dante emanated the scent of masculinity and something bitter, but pleasant. He was far stronger than Sparda, now. His burning aura was making it like he had lava in his visible veins, almost. The shirt was showing some of his big chest, white hair going down the fabric, under it. Nero pinched his cheek mentally again.

"So, what brings you here?" Dante said. He tilted his head and his hair followed him like silver strings of silk.

"Wanted to visit." Nero said the truth. That made his uncle remain silent, and Nero simply removed his coat, abandoning it on the couch, and went for a beer. Thank that Goddess called Patty, there were food and even beers. She literally dragged Dante out of the shop for some groceries.

"That's nice of you. Is Nico outside?"

"Nah. Came here on foot. And, well, flying. But it ain't easy with the type of wings I have."

Silence. Nero prepared two beers, one for himself and the other for Dante, placing it on his desk as he sat down on it. He was close to his uncle, but not enough. Dante took his beer and returned to his comfortable position, taking a sip. All while looking at Nero nonstop.

It was making the boy shiver, almost. But he kept his cool.

"Did you miss me, Nero?" Dante suddenly said, his gaze thin and pensive. "When I was in hell."

Nero thought of that. Did he? Fuck yes. The frustration of not having the old man around fucked his relationship with Kyrie. They still lived in the orphanage, but not as an almost married couple. Separate rooms, a new life. Kyrie had Nico now. Nero had, well…his new amazing hand. Dante wasn't aware of what had happened between the young couple. But he wasn't the idiot too many people thought he was.

His pale, blue eyes held even more experience than Vergil's.

Both combat wise, and in human life. Dante saw too much. Yet his smiles were always genuine. Like the one that he was giving Nero as he wasn't replying to his question.

"Oh. Uh…" Nero fucking hated overthinking. He was the opposite type of guy for that bullshit.

…naw. Not really. When it was about deep stuff, Nero thought a lot. He had a good soul, and good souls tend to think of others way too much. Like he did with Credo, a long time ago.

"I didn't want you to die. I don't have…the same relationship with Father, compared to what we have."

"And what do we have, Nero?" Dante asked. Oh, shit. The boy worded shit wrong. He cleared his throat and drank his beer for a sec.

"You're in my life way before he came in. Not to mention how the fucker showed up." Nero shrugged, watching his now healthy arm.

"And you taught me stuff. I started doing your job, you gave me a direction after Fortuna's incident. I was kinda lost. I had Kyrie, I had the power I needed to build something with her…"

He trailed off. Dante finished his beer in one go and Nero didn't even saw it.

"And I fucked it up."

He said. Nero looked at him, and he saw that fucking look. Regret. It made him want to destroy the bottle he was still finishing on his head. White hair colored like piss.

"I don't know what you're talking about. We simply broke up because I decided so. People grow up from their romantic fantasies and decide their fates." It sounded like an excuse. Maybe it was, partially.

Dante sighed. He launched the bottle somewhere as it crashed unceremoniously. Not even some minutes and Patty's work was going to shit. But Nero noticed that Dante acted out of pure nervousness. He was vaguely annoyed by the way he crossed his legs, sighing again like he was the most tired man in this fucking world. Maybe… He was.

"Kid. I might be getting old but I'm not senile. I do still remember what happened in Fortuna years ago."

Right. Fuck. There it was again, Dante's fucking emotional wall. He was smiling at Nero and he was pushing him away at the same time. True, nobody actually forgot. When they were trying to save that forsaken city and reveal the dark behind it.

Dante was simply passing by when he saw the kid jerking himself off, spurting his cum against the corpse of a demon. For a second he was worried that the boy was a damn necrophile, but then his soft voice, despite the rough movement of his demonic arm - to have more friction, more pain, whispered: Dante.

Dante. Dante. Fucking Dante.

The demon hunter waited that the boy was finished to simply walk in. He saw two beautiful, big eyes looking at him in shame. But Dante smiled sadly at him. He tilted his head, his hair following.

"Let's pretend I didn't see anything, kid. Take your girl back and forget about me."

And that was it. They never talked about it once, and then Dante was gone. And when he was gone, shit happened. Dante returned with a slightly older Nero, still a damn kid, but proud and powerful, his rough features gone when he was able to trigger in that magnificent, alluring demonic form.

And Nero left Kyrie behind. He kept his job, kept Nico at his side, kept the kids, but his family was technically gone. Scattered because of needs Dante thought the boy had forgotten.

Silence.

That was why Nero was here. Like every time he would show up at his door randomly. Without a job to offer, without anything important to say. He was there just for him. Dante. Pushing away what he had just for him. It made Dante's wall grow stronger.

"Get out, kiddo. Thank you for checking on me, though. Little Patty knows how to keep me in line." Dante stood up. Fuck, it hurt every time. Since his return from hell, Nero's attachment was almost obsessive. He would leave, defeated, think about him for too long, and return at the shop. Waiting for a change Dante didn't…no, couldn't, give him.

He didn't fucking care about the incestuous attraction. They were half-demons, united in sin. Perhaps it was even exciting Dante's demon a bit too much, that same blood they shared.

He simply…like with anyone else. He simply needed to be alone. But he was already hearing was Nero was about to say. 'I can handle staying around you. I can fight demons if they want to kill us off. Just give me a fucking chance, old man.'

Those words never came, though. It was weird. Dante looked perfectly fine, heading for the fridge for another beer. Then Nero talked.

"You look very good with those long hair, pops. Don't cut them, if you don't wanna."

That made Dante block his movements. He slowly turned to see Nero smiling at him, his shoulder down, his eyes thin and calm. Sad as a damned soul though. Dante realized. Nero had given up.

Was he going to say 'hallelujer, Jesus Christ'? No. He stood there as Nero left the bottle on the desk. Moving to take his jacket. Now, it was Nero who was putting up a giant wall between Dante and his emotions.

Dante got extremely annoyed. Selfish beast. His demon growled at the boy's behavior like it was right for them to push him away, but not on the other way around.

"Kid."

He simply called. Nero looked at him, looking more detached than before.

"I get it, I'm going."

"Why the fuck did you flushed down the toilet what you worked so hard to have, for me? Did a part of your brain died when you splattered jizz all over a dead demon you killed, that day?"

Nero chuckled, not amused at all. He looked away, a gentle blush on his skin. Pale as his father's.

"You killed that part of my brain. I'm still jerking off thinking of you knowing you're fam. I was confused back then. Thought it was a crush on a man I hated. Then time passed and I couldn't even fuck Kyrie. If we gotta point fingers, You, fucked up my life."

It hurt. It was what Dante thought, what made him feel like shit, full of regrets. What made him avoid touching himself at the thought of Nero, as a human, as the beautiful beast he could become when transformed.

"Fuck you and your 'I need to stay alone to protect who I love' bullshit, all right? Fuck you for having fucked with me. Fuck you for everything. I will find someone else, I will. It's not that fucking difficult once you stop obsessing over a person." Nero shrugged. He moved towards the entrance but when his gaze was on the handle, Dante was there. His clothes moved, unable to keep up with his speed. His hair, so much silk, caressing his perfectly symmetrical face.

"You'll find someone else my ass. That's not how it goes, Kid." Dante's voice was low. Nero noticed his…barrier, was gone for once. The boy gulped because Dante's eyes weren't human. Their sclera black, their irises pure fire. He was angry.

But so was Nero. He tossed his jacket at him, Dante caught it and launched it away.

"What the fuck then? Do you want me to keep coming here, getting refused, maybe visiting you while you're fucking some girl, like the last time I came here? Want me to rot in my own fucked up feelings after I decided to put an end to what I once loved, for the sake of an asshole that is too scared to even kiss? I'm done with this bullshit! Torment yourself to death for all I fucking care. Now get out of my w-"

A roar. It was so loud it made the shop tremble, Nero's demon purred in extreme desire. The boy was shocked, though. Dante wasn't even triggered if not for his teeth and eyes, and Nero knew that if he wanted, he could've killed him with his bare hands.

But as usual, Nero's random visits came with him unequipped. He could only rely on his demonic power, but his demon didn't respond at all. Nero looked behind his back for a second and saw his wings appearing and then retreating.

'He is Sparda. Stronger. We love him. No fights.'

It echoed inside Nero's brain. The boy gave up, preferring to look at the ground, beaten up.

"Just let me go, Dante. I get it. I won't bother you with this bullshit anymore. I don't even know why you're fucking angry. I've given up as you wanted."

Dante growled. He returned human, but the intensity of his presence didn't calm down. That man could haunt an entire mansion if he wanted to. No, an entire region. He could transform the world as his possession, make every demon kneel under him, his brother included. But Dante had no desire for power, even when power was forced into him. It was a curse. A painful curse.

"I don't know, Nero. Right now I'm not particularly lucid. You know how it goes with our demons. And I'm sure as hell I Don't want you to get out of here right now." Dante's jaw snapped for a second. And his teeth were normal again. Still, he looked so big. Wide and strong. There were armored muscles under his slightly tanned skin of his.

"I can't attack you, man. Not now." Nero whispered.

"You better not. I'm not in a good mood."

"You're a selfish bitch."

"Don't give up on me."

Nero went silent. He looked up and saw that Dante was now calm. In a way. His obsessive power was under control, and he leaned his back on the door as he crossed his arms. Defensive position.

Don't give up on me, he said.

Silence returned and Dante was keeping his head low. Pensive and hurt at the same time. Fighting with what he desired and needed, and what he thought he wasn't supposed to have or deserve. Nero saw it all. Understood it all, because Dante was like an open book to him by now.

He wasn't pushing Nero away anymore. Therefore the boy came closer, careful. He moved his arms when he could reach the strands of Dante's hair. Soft as silk, like he always imagined. They were even softer than before, remembering when during their fights Nero would pull his uncle's hair back. Dante was stronger, bigger, regenerated. But his soul was more tired than ever.

Nero pushed back that hair and watched Dante's clean face. They locked their gazes and they saw family and sin and desire.

"I can't break it. I can't get through that sturdy defense of yours if you don't ease it a little. I know what's going on, man. I felt it too. Not with the same violence, but I felt it. You know how shitty I lived as a kid. I didn't forget about how painful it was to try to get close to humans. It always felt wrong, like I was going to let them walk into a deadly trap. I know, Dante. I fucking know how cursed we are."

Dante's eyes softened. There he was. That broken man behind the idiot persona. Or behind his pizzas and sundaes and knowledge of the underworld and human life. Behind it all there was just this broken, abandoned man. Nero was feeling that side of him when he was a kid but he could see it. It was the reason he was always visiting.

"Kid, understand where you're putting yourself into. I always held back on having someone on my side for more than a week. Accepting you will make Me and my demon self so possessive you will want to call the cops for kidnapping."

"Yeah," Nero said, chuckling low. "that's one of my favorite fantasies with you involved when I'm all alone in my room."

Dante sighed. He looked fragile. Nero saw on him everything that nobody ever saw, hell, not even Dante when he looked at himself in the mirror. His past, his present, his nightmares, his hopes and dreams. Dante gave his entire heart to revenge, then, to the people. Then, both. Then, to his brother.

Nero was looking at what was left of all of that.

"I stopped loving him in 'that' way after I realized you were his son," Dante whispered, shrugging. "I didn't see you as a replica, or whatever. I didn't fucked up as I did with Trish. I simply thought; I need to take care of the son of my brother. I wasn't able to. I'm not a kids man."

They both laughed. Nero felt warm. It was a confession, he was hearing a confession and that made him even more docile.

"I liked how similar and different you both are. Even as a kid, Vergil wasn't affectionate. Especially towards me. It seems you were able to inherit his stubbornness and all, but you also took our mother's unconditional love towards us. You even…" Dante paused, looking uncomfortable. But he continued. "She was more of a family person. She cared about others until a certain point. Your love towards who needs it is, shit, immense. It doesn't have bonds. It blew me away."

Nero passed his thumbs on Dante's cheeks. He could feel his skin almost soft, meaning that he had shaved that same day.

"You're you, kid. You're the pride of us Spardas. What father and mother probably wanted from their heirs. Strength and compassion. We failed at both."

The boy now was moving his hands down Dante's body. It was firm and too warm. More than feverish, but that was just how Dante now was. Chest to chest, Dante looked at Nero's eyes. They were thin and calm despite the blush on those cheeks.

"...you saved the world multiple times, witnessing your friends and family die or abandon you in the process. Who fucking cares if it was for regret or compassion if you arrived to the point of self-destruction just so that we all could live our lives, old man?"

Simple as that. It was Nero now that shrugged. He smirked and Dante snorted, looking away. He wasn't used to compliments. Or to be properly thanked for his sacrifices.

"You know how to use your tongue when you want, kid."

Dante whispered, and his hands finally moved. They squeezed Nero's sides until he heard the boy gasp, seeing his lips parting. That's where he leaned for a kiss, and it was delicate. Almost like Dante was still trying to control his strength, or maybe simply his feelings. Nero moaned inside his mouth, devouring him as the taste of beer exploded between them. But they felt their demonic scents, they could even hear their demons purring as they united.

It was weird and pleasant and comforting. So much that Dante finally snapped, using a hand to push Nero's head against his. That kiss became rough, made of teeth and bites, sloppy and needy. The boy couldn't breathe and it was fine, until they parted only because Dante assaulted his neck. He was desperate. Like a starving man in front of his delicious good after so much time of little pieces of bread in the luckiest of his day.

Nero was manhandled to the sofa, and the boy was able to strip Dante from at least his t-shirt, before claws actually messed his own sweater up like it was made of paper. Dante growled, tried to keep himself human. But he felt too possessive, and fuck, Nero was way too submissive. He was looking at him with a dreamy gaze, his cock pushing against his jeans as Dante clawed them away too, alongside his boxers. He felt bad for being so rough, to launch one of his boots and ignore the other, to gnaw Nero's skin as his teeth were changing from human to demonic from time to time.

"Let it out," Nero moaned, chuckling. "I can take you, Dante."

It sounded like a challenge but it wasn't, really. It was what the kid said nonstop for months. He wasn't as strong as Dante, but his demon had no intention of demolishing Nero. If not sexually. It was more difficult for him to control that side than himself. Kiddo didn't help by palming his erection until Dante felt like roaring again.

"T-that's right. That's my man. Give me what you showed me before. Fuck, babe, show me how much you wanna keep me here with you for days." Nero breathed out, barely sane.

'Let's give all of us.'

And Dante gave.

For once he didn’t need to care about hurting, or annoying, or almost killing, or being refused for who he was. Nero desired him too much, so much it was hurting Dante’s chest. That’s how he perceived happiness, such a rare thing for him to feel even during a battle. That was a different type of happiness, of adrenaline. Being accepted, not pushed away, and even better, not being forced to push away. The lonely devil hunter felt free.

So free.

“Oh- fu-fuck, Dan-...” Dante returned to himself. Kinda. He was jerking Nero off violently, and the boy already creamed himself once or twice between their skins. He didn’t stop, even when he saw his own bites all over the kid’s skin. They were healing, so he opened them up. They stopped bleeding, so he sucked and lapped more blood. Nero was obsessed with his hair. He didn’t know where he was touching, overwhelmed, but he would always brush his hair back, cuddle them, pull them when their mouth met again for lovely and deep kisses that tasted like iron.

They didn’t trigger, they wanted to be human for their first. Even if sometimes Nero’s would scratch Dante’s back with one of his wings without even noticing. He was gone, Dante positioned his face between the boy’s legs to lap some of his cum, suck the red tip of that dick, going down, taking care of his balls. There was barely some hair, white, soft like Nero’s skin. When he fucked his hole, the kid shuddered and gasped.

“No, no. Give it to me. I’ll… I’ll heal.”

“It’s big, Nero. Don’t tease me, now.” Dante whispered, his voice vibrating in a vague growl.

“Shut the fuck up and give it to me.”

Again. This insolent, stupid brat. Dante’s demon chuckled and purred. It liked Nero a lot since the day he saw him. Desperately asking for Dante to let It take over during those series of punches on the face just to pin the boy down and rail him senseless inside his not so sacred fucking church.

Dante got warmer. Nero felt like touching lava, he knew that a few degrees more were going to boil him alive. Inside, outside, but who cared. They returned to kiss, Dante grabbing one of his knees, pushing it back against his chest. He seemed to like Nero’s long legs, he remembered Vergil refusing to get touched there by his brother in constant refusal towards his obsessed love.

Nero wasn’t the third wheel. He had to fight through all of those people getting in Dante’s mind before he could finally get his full attention. And now there was no way back. Yes, Dante’s cock was massive. Veiny and hard, leaking precome, oozing it. Okay. That was going to hurt. But it was perfect. It was Nero desired for so long. And it burned, that short ass prep was absolutely not enough. There was friction, Nero writhing under the tensed up muscles of the beast that Dante was. Nero hugged his neck, scratched down his back, worked to not make his body instinctively escape from that rude intrusion. No. No, keep going. Dante was smiling, his eyes pure darkness if it wasn’t for his irises of fire.

“Baby boy, taking me so good. I didn’t know you were so hungry for some cock.”

Nero licked his lips, tears falling down his cheeks as he smiled back. “Not some, asshole. Yours.”

Right. Dante wasn’t fucking one of his casual lovers. He wasn’t dreaming of having a partner, he was bonding in real life with one. There were no light feelings. It was real.

It hurt. They both moaned as Dante got balls deep inside his kid, and there they were. That silky hair, so thin compared to Nero’s, so many. They were creating a sweet tent around their faces, as their eyes locked once more. The boy caressed those strands, rough, calloused fingers able to give an affection Dante felt only when he was a kid. A long, long time ago. As the little decayed prince and his broken wooden sword.

The pace was immediately cruel. Yet both of the men moaned, and Nero’s hole welcomed that brutal intrusion while his walls rapidly recovered. It was already old blood, so much friction. Dante got hurt too, but it was all good now. The sick luck of hybrids like them. They were rough but they kept staring at each other, they moaned, they cried out. Nero caressed Dante’s face, but when a particular thrust readjusted his fucking prostate he would throw his head back and almost scream.

“You’re coming like a whore. I love it, angel.” Low praises. That’s how Dante was, ruthless and kind. Praising his boy for being able to take him, as he went even harder, grabbing the armrest of his sofa to support himself as he ravaged that poor boy. Nero squirmed, cursed, and used his strength to fight against the recoil so that he could feel it all, almost like he was scared Dante would slip away from him once and simply walk away. He was milking him, and he didn’t care how many times he would shot cum against their bellies, as long as Dante kept fucking him.

It drove Dante crazy. Licking Nero’s face to taste his skin and his salty tears. It made him drool, it made him growl as he kept going. Again. Again. Again. Again.

“Da-Dante..” It wasn’t a stop. It wasn’t Nero asking to calm down. He was simply calling him, even when he had no strength to even summon his wings, to hug him. Dante had his face buried against the kid’s neck, and suddenly he heard and felt how sloppy their fuck was. He never slowed down a second, he never stopped claiming and biting and kissing and generally disgustingly savoring everything he could of Nero. He simply… lost track of time.

‘Dawn. We released ten times. Tired.’

Oh.

Oh fuck.

It just came crushing Dante down like a punch in the throat. The exhaustion, the pain, the contraction his last almost dry orgasms were giving him, brutal spasms. His lungs hurt, his throat was fucked. Nero. Nero?

“Baby boy…” He called, tensed up. He took the effort to move from his position to simply look at his face. His muscles ached, even if they were still able to perform. Such power was a curse. Nero was completely demolished, and it seemed like he fainted once or twice. Yet his eyes opened, focusing slowly on Dante’s face. He was breathing slowly because he kinda had no fucking air left - or so he felt.

“Look at...the mess you’ve made. You needed to vent...for real.”

His voice was gone. Yes, yes. Dante remembered. The screams, the moans. His eyes traveled down, and compared to Nero’s now flaccid, gorgeous cock, he was as big as a monster. No, no he wasn’t. He was proportioned. He simply… felt gross, as he saw blobs of cum pooling out of Nero’s hole, vaguely pink because of the blood. Nero had indeed creamed himself enough to be called a champ, but Dante’s load was…

“Delicious.” Nero interrupted the hunter’s thoughts. Like he was in his head. Dante looked at him as he freed Nero from his body, yet the boy demanded, weakly, a hug.

“Bet a loverboy like you know what aftercare is...because I can’t even fucking move a leg.”

They both chuckled. Dante moved closer and held Nero in his arms, as he hissed because he had to sit and it hurt. They were a sweaty mess, sticky and stinky. Yet Dante buried his face on Nero’s neck once again. A moment of silence. Almost romantic. No, not romantic. Intimate. That Dante was for Nero only and vice versa.

“Don’t give up on me.” Dante murmured out of the blue. True. Too many did, even when he never left somebody behind. No matter what. Especially his brother, that Dante never abandoned no matter how terrible his actions were. The legendary hunter was just a human, behind his strength and his demonic side. Nero saw it. As he saw humanity in himself when Kyrie held her hand towards him for the first time. The boy simply forced a hand to go up, up, where one of his favorite spots was. Even if humid in sweat, Dante’s hair felt still so soft. Like an angel’s one. Dante never cried. He didn’t to, anymore. But when he felt that touch again, his hug became warmer. Hidden in his safe place that Nero was. “I won’t.” Nero said, low.

Everything that Dante was and will be in the depth of his soul was pouring out, a secret be tween a sinful and sweet bond sealed by Nero’s hopeful, simple whisper, as his thumbs played absentmindedly with immaculate silk.

“Until the end.”


End file.
